pffanonfandomcom-20200213-history
How Isabella Got Pinky
AUTHOR'S NOTE: While this totally contradicts Isabella's side of the events of The First Day, you're going to have to deal. (: I also decided to merge this with the story "How Isabelle Got Blinky". So here's a double feature. [[User:American che|'American che']]{elvendork — it's unisex!} P.S. The bird bites. Just kidding. These are written like essays for school instead of a story. How Isabella Got Pinky By Isabella Garcia-Shapiro It came out of the blue. One day, I was just sitting on the couch, watching a rerun of some animal rescue show. The featured pet was a sweet-looking dog saved from a burning building. I saw how cuddly and adorable the dog was. Then and there, I decided I wanted a dog of some sort. My mother, however, was a very intense neat freak. I asked her for a dog, and her immediate response was no. "How can I trust you to take care of a dog?" she had said. "You don't even take care of your Nintendogs. If you can't take care of those, what makes you think you can take care of a living dog? You can't just let it die. It's animal cruelty, Isa. I don't think a dog would be a good idea in this house." I followed her around for days after that, purposefully being the biggest pestering nag of a child. "Mamaaaa..." "No, Isa." "Please, Mama?" "Isa, go play at Phineas's house." "Ma''ma''..." I begged and pleaded. I composed long (yet somehow juvenile) emails to my mother's email address, outlining all the reasons why Isabella should have a dog and skating over the sticky patches. Every time I thought I got close, she turned around and shot me down. Until one morning. It was a Saturday. My mother woke me up and said, "Isa, get in the car." When I asked why, she didn't respond. I got in the car, feeling very confused. My mother pulled out of the driveway and down the street. We drove and drove and drove for ages. I noticed a building coming up on the horizon — the Danville pound — and my heart ached, knowing I would never go in there and get a dog. Or so I thought. My mother turned into the parking lot and turned off the car. "Surprise," she said, smiling. I nearly fainted with shock. "Oh, really, Mama?" Mom mimed putting her keys back into the ignition and pulling out. "Nope, we're leaving. I brought you here just to tease you." She stowed the keys in her purse and got out of the car, gesturing for me to follow suit. When we got inside the building, a man rushed up to us. "Oh, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro!" he gushed. "How nice to see you. Are you ready to choose a dog?" My mother nodded. "Show us what you got." My immediate thought when I walked into the room with the pets was I want to take them all home. Dogs peered out at me behind cold metal bars, and my heart went out to them all, because what if they couldn't find a home? Then what? "Take your time," said the man who greeted us, and with that he swept from the room. "This little fella looks cute," said my mother, bending down to look at a big-eyed bulldog. I shuddered. "Mama, what if he's putting on the act just to get out?" "Dogs aren't that smart, honey," said my mother absent-mindedly. That was when I saw The One. You know it, that feeling in your heart, you know that this is the dog you will be taking home. He was a chihuahua with soft tan fur and big brown eyes. He looked hopefully at me as I passed by, and I melted inside. "Oh, Mama, this is him!" "Are you sure?" asked my mother. "Once you get him, there's no turning back — or getting another one." "Oh, yes, this is him, I swear," I said, gently petting him through the bars of his cage. He yipped and jittered. "He's a bit jittery," my mother commented. "Why not try another dog?" "Mama." Mom sighed. "Okay." She turned to the door and called for the man, who came running back in. "You have found a dog?" "Yes. Isa, show him." I gestured to the chihuahua's cage and the man smiled. "Yes, I thought you'd like Pinky. He's sweet, isn't he?" I nodded. "Very good," said the man. "Well, Isabella, Pinky is yours." He opened up the cage and Pinky came bounding out, pawing at my knees. I picked him up and said, "Oh, Pinky, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." How Isabelle Got Blinky By Isabelle Garcio-Shapira One day I asked my mom if I could have a chihuahua. She bought me one right away. The end. Category:Fanon Works Category:Che's Articles